


Sparks Fly

by Yorudan



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Bedtime, Implied Character Death, M/M, Sad Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1347868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yorudan/pseuds/Yorudan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You should start taking notes, King. You may have to show her something pretty one day," Totsuka said as he cradled the bottom of the ash tray in his hands, arms relaxed at his sides. Mikoto allowed his gaze to wander to his companion. What bullshit. As if he could be expected to do something other than burn everything around him.</p><p>In which Totsuka has a tradition of showing Anna something pretty before bed, and Mikoto has to try and take over after Totsuka's passing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks Fly

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on AO3... Yikes. I'm totally prepared to be either judged or brutally ignored, so... Have fun reading? I set up my own, ah... set up for Homra's HQ, mostly because it's been a little while since I've read Memory of Red and the layout of the bar isn't really that big of a deal.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own [K] Project!

"And, _explosion!_ "

Totsuka Tatara threw up his hands, sparks flying out from his palms and fingertips. He was sat on the edge of Anna's bed, the quiet little girl half-tucked in at the center of the white sheets. The world outside was as dark as the room and the night hardly young, the clock having struck midnight long ago; no one in Homra really understood the point in curfews.

In this darkness, it was especially hard to miss the way Anna's eyes lit up at the explosion of red, and her silent joy and amazement only seemed to grow as Totsuka's sparks rained down. Anna watched in wonder as the sparks found their center, reuniting again and dipping back up. The fire flew higher between herself and Totsuka, taking on the shape of wings and feathers, fiery and passionate, as they morphed themselves into a relatively small bird resembling a phoenix.

"Amazing..." Anna's voice was as calm and leveled as ever, but she did clap her hands, eyes sparkling under the glow of the fire bird. Over by the door, Mikoto found himself uncrossing his arms, pushing himself up from the wall he was leaned against. It was almost time.

"Ah, how kind." Totsuka laughed a bit breathlessly, pleased with Anna's reaction. The display wasn't much, but even this small effort had a bead of sweat trailing down from Totsuka's temple.

Totsuka smiled, turning his palm face up just above his lap and inviting the sparks to find their way back home, nestled back comfortably into his hand. They did, exploding away from each other a second time before they fell down into his palm, dying down until they were only crumbling ashes.

Totsuka made a face, looking for somewhere to put the ashes. He turned his head, torso twisting to follow its example, and was only faintly surprised as black boots stepped up beside the bed.

"Ah, thank you, King."

Totsuka reached up with his free hand as he continued to smile, intending to take the ash tray Mikoto had come to offer. Pale fingers took the small black tray, others releasing the ashes from Totsuka's palm, allowing them to find their final resting place amongst others of their kind... until they were thrown out, of course.

"Well," Totsuka smiled, looking back at Anna as she began to settle into bed, lying down and only making a minimal amount of movements to get herself comfortable. "Good night, Anna," Totsuka said, smiling as softly as ever, and he reached out, brushing Anna's white hair back a bit from her face.

"Good night." Anna's reply was short and sweet, and Totsuka chuckled. He expected nothing more, nothing less.

Pushing himself up off Anna's bed, Totsuka smiled as he turned towards Mikoto. No words were exchanged between the two of them, Totsuka watching as Mikoto's gold eyes stayed on Anna for just a moment longer. Then Mikoto was turning, silently retreating out of the room with his hands shoved into his pockets. Totsuka followed, taking the ash tray with him to dump once they got back downstairs to the bar.

"Did you like my show, King?" Totsuka asked as he and Mikoto stepped out into the hallway, one hand reaching back to shut Anna's door. He got nothing but a grunt in response as Mikoto reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette. Totsuka watched him bring the stick up to his lips, cradling it there as a powerful flame burst from his hand. Mikoto leaned in with little to no caution, lighting his cigarette with this flame before allowing it to die.

"Anna did," came Mikoto's drawled reply as the Red King took a hit off his cigarette. He puffed out smoke, reaching over and flicking ashes into the ash tray as Totsuka held it up expectantly. The latter smiled.

"You should start taking notes, King. You may have to show her something pretty before bedtime one day," Totsuka said as he cradled the bottom of the ash tray in his hands, arms relaxed at his sides. Mikoto focused his gaze on Totsuka, his eyebrows furrowing just the slightest. Totsuka was still smiling like the damn thing was painted on, but Mikoto found he didn't mind. Totsuka always smiled, and if he wasn't, Mikoto found himself uneasy.

He gave something of a little scoff, shutting his eyes. _What bullshit_ _,_ Mikoto had to refrain himself from saying aloud, the corners of his lips curling into a faint frown.

He couldn't _really_ be expected to make such dainty, pretty flames; his were meant to scorch trees, melt metal. Their only purpose was to be used as a weapon, not a unique child's substitute for a lullaby or bedtime story. He couldn't make flames the way Totsuka did, so fair and dancing; their power and strength fleeting, but their beauty everlasting. No, Mikoto didn't believe he could manage that. His heart's flames were too violent.

"Yeah, right," Mikoto blew off Totsuka's comment, starting to move down the hall, supposing he'd head back down to the bar and sit with Kusanagi. A trail of smoke was left in his wake and Totsuka laughed softly, reaching up and fanning the gray cloud away from his face. Then he was following after Mikoto, always one to follow his King loyally.

_"Come now, King..."_

Not a week later, Mikoto found he couldn't remember the rest. He just stared down at the ash tray in his hands, all the ashes blending together. A cigarette was stuck between his lips, the end not yet lit, as he was still contemplating whether he wanted to smoke or not when he just had minutes before. Mikoto was sitting on Anna's bed, the light on in the room, though it still felt so _dark_. He didn't want to be with anyone at the moment; he just wanted to wait on Anna. He wanted to try and make her a bird, or a flower, or _something._

"Mikoto."

The Red King looked up, not surprised at all to find Anna standing in the doorway. She was dressed for bed, her nightgown as white as her hair, only the edges trimmed with a dark red for her to see, to feel. Mikoto could feel the desire to suck in a breath pooling at the back of his throat, in the floor of his mouth. He watched Anna come over, lifting herself onto the bed and settling beside him. She leaned against him, red eyes falling shut as her hands folded into her lap.

"You don't have to," Anna assured him, voice quiet and soft. Mikoto reached up, fingertips grazing the earring now settled into the cartilage at the top of his left ear. His eyes slid shut and he felt anger pool in his stomach, the longing for revenge. He felt ready to self-destruct, combust. The Colorless King _would_ feel his anger, the hatred burning inside him.

A flame popped out from Mikoto's palm, violent and alive and starting to melt down the ash tray in his hands. He grimaced.

 _I told you, I can't. Look at me. I want to burn it all, everything. I want..._ He _wanted_ none of this to have happened; he wanted the aching pain to leave his chest, and that meant finding the one that had caused such pain, _destroying_ him...

_"King."_

Mikoto felt warmth spread through his hands, soothing his own flames down, and his gold eyes opened. He looked to the side to find Anna no longer leaning on him, his body having noticed the absence of her weight against his side before his mind ever had a chance. Her eyes were lit up with wonder, and if Mikoto didn't know any better, he'd say the corners were sparkling with tears. He followed Anna's red gaze, peering down at his hands.

A blazing flower stem, precise and thin, was sprouting up from the half-melted ash tray in his hands. A closed flower was settled against its tip, waiting to open up and bloom. Mikoto felt the faint remnants of surprise flutter around in his chest and stomach, replacing the anger that had once resided there.

"Mikoto," Anna said quietly, tugging at Mikoto's sleeve. She moved to lean against him again, and for a moment Mikoto wasn't sure he understood. He looked at her, gold eyes trailing back to the flower conjured up amongst the mountain of ashes in the tray, managing not to burn any of them. Slowly, and cautiously, Mikoto let himself manipulate the flower before them, a hand rising up to do so.

The flower popped open slowly, the bud opening fully before its petals blossomed, fanning out; red and warm, but stable and small. Their tips burned violently, but didn't spread their flames anywhere. That was good; safe.

"Amazing," Anna said quietly, leaning back slightly as sparks exploded from the center of the flower. She watched on, amazed, as they burst in the open air above her and Mikoto's heads, moving in swirling motions and patterns. Anna's little hands clutched loosely at Mikoto's shirt, her head against his arm. "Mikoto's flames are beautiful," she said quietly, and Mikoto tilted his head back slightly, watching the flames dancing in the air. He raised his palm, the sparks diving back down into his hand almost violently.

Mikoto closed his fingers around the flames, and they settled in his palm nicely, their heat moving in waves over his skin. Beside him, Anna let herself relax against Mikoto, fully content and comfortable, despite their recent loss and the faint ache in her own chest.

Mikoto kept the flames pressed between his fingers and palm alive for several minutes, drawing out their life just to busy himself as he felt Anna dozing off. Only when Mikoto felt Anna totally slip away into the comfort of slumber and her gentle embrace did he finally let the fire in his palm die, fading into dead ashes.

"Tatara..." Mikoto said quietly, staring down at the ashes in the tray he held, where he knew all the ashes from the last two weeks were laid out. His cigarette ashes, the ashes from his little display just now piled on top, and...

_Did you like my show?_

**Author's Note:**

> Being totally honest, I actually happen to LIKE this.


End file.
